Addiction or Something Like it
by Sphinxie
Summary: For those who have read Same Word, Different Meaning and for those who haven't! The extended tale of two dangerously addicted teenagers.


**Well, here it is, the extended fic of my one-shot Same Word, Different Meaning. I hope its okay, cause it was a relief to get it out of my head and onto (proverbial) paper. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but Shea, bah.

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First and foremost, let's get something straight, I don't have a _problem_ and I don't need help.

My names Shea, actually, it's Shayla, but no one's called me that since I was five, I suppose I just grew out of it. I've lived here in Ipswich for about ten years out of my eighteen, so I can be placed under the category of 'local,' much to my distaste. In the summer, I live with my mom in a scrubby little apartment on the outskirts of town, and for the rest of the time, I'm sent to live in the local private school dorms. But enough about the history lesson, let's get down to the point, shall we? I'm a smoker, there I said it, I'm basically saying 'fuck you' to my lungs, and am proceeding to burn them out, no need to point out how shitty that is, I already know. But the whole point of this little story is to bring in the current headache in my life, a one Reid Garwin.

I met said pain in my ass while lighting up outside of the boys' dorm room exit. Why was I there? It really doesn't matter, but there I was, and there he was, all righteous about how awful smoking is, as if I don't read the warning label, actually, I could probably recite it in my sleep. But anyways, after he had gotten off his high-horse and into his little puppy's pimp-mobile, I had a lot of anger to vent, and no real great place to blow off some steam, so I decided to go for a walk, maybe meet some people on the way, and find some plans for the weekend. It seemed to be my lucky day (please note my sarcasm) because here came the Provost, looking as if I had just killed his dog. After reading me a long lecture on how if I smoked near a member of the swim team, _even_ Garwin I would be suspended, apparently, I can kill myself as I please, but the school will be damned if I take school athletes down with me.

It took Garwin one day to track me down, and I admit, I admire his ability to hold onto an argument like a pit-bull, but still, having Garwin try to break my door down at six on a Saturday morning was not what I needed.

"What the hell are you trying to do? Smash my door off its hinges?" I snarled, as I ripped the poor door open, not that Reid paid any mind to me, he just barged right into my room and started to tear it apart. "What the hell are you doing?!" I shrieked, launching myself onto his back, trying to tear him away from my stuff.

He unlatched my death grip from around his throat and dumped me onto my bed, in a rather undignified heap and continued to sift through my desk. It was at this time that I noticed we were drawing a crowd; about a dozen girls wearing shocked expressions were staring openly as Reid just kept on digging through everything I owned. Getting over my momentary shock at being tossed about like a rag-doll, I got back up and, grabbing my pillow in both hands, with as much force as I could muster, slammed it into his back, making him stop and look at me.

"What?" he demanded, crossing his arms in front of him as he turned to face me.

I couldn't help it; rage just took over, something about how he had looked at me like I was the one who had banged on his door, instead of the other way around sent me into a frenzy. With a growl I attacked.

I beat him with my pillow until I couldn't feel my arms, making him yelp as I smacked him in the face, arms, and any other body part I could reach. "What are you doing, you crazy bitch?" He yelled, trying to deflect my blows with a book that he had grabbed off my desk.

"What am I doing? What the hell are _you_ doing!? What possessed you to dig through my stuff at six in the goddamned morning?" I gasped, dropping the pillow to the floor, and wiping sweat from my forehead.

He shrugged, "I've decided that your addicted ass needs an intervention."

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped, "what?" I said it quietly, unable to fully comprehend what was going on.

He rolled his eyes like it was the most damned obvious thing in the world, "in-ter-ven-tion, it means that I'm going to help you stop smoking, you can thank me now."

I bared my teeth at him, clenching my hands together, "uh, I don't think so, get the fuck out of my dorm, and take the audience with you." The girls, who were still staring all grinned sheepishly at Reid and went back to their rooms.

Reid stared at me, and I instantly noticed the set look in his eyes, oh, how I knew I would grow to hate that look, and he said "get over it princess, cause I'm gonna be your new best friend." With that said, he grabbed my purse, which was hanging from a chair, and pulled out my pack of smokes.

"What the hell are you gon-" he grinned at me, and tossed the pack out my open window. It was all the invitation that I needed to start beating him again, "you asshole!" I shouted, slamming my fists into his shoulders, "do you have any idea how much that cost?" I trembled, panic rising in me, I really, _really_ needed a smoke, and I needed it now. "Damn you!" I shouted, and dashed for the door, if I got downstairs quick enough, they might still be okay, some would be ruined, but they could last me until I got into town. I would have made it, too, if I hadn't been encircled in a pair of strong arms that were holding me back. "Lemmie go!" I half sobbed, digging my nails into his forearms, trying to free myself.

"_Ouch_," he grumbled, still holding me. "Calm down, okay? Just calm down, it'll be okay, but first you need to calm down." I shook my head, gasping to hold back the tears that were threatening to pour down my face. He sighed, "can you at least let go of my arm, I think you've broken skin," he was right, I had, bloody crescent moons were all over the arm I had clung to. Whatever, it's what he deserved.

"You-you don't understand," I muttered, trying to turn around to look him in the face, "you just don't get how hard it is for me to quit, I mean, you can't, unless you used to smoke, or something like it." I shrugged and glanced up at him.

He scowled, "trust me when I say, I know _exactly_ what you're going through."

I wrinkled my nose at him, "whatever you say, chief, and just letting you know, you smell like chlorine."

He looked down at me and snorted, "it's better than smelling like an ashtray." I couldn't help but chuckle weakly.

But there it is, the story of how I got my sponsor in the battle I'm fondly calling 'The Siege on Fort Nicotine,' god help me, I have no idea what I'm getting myself into.

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**There we go! Chapter one done. For all those who haven't read the one-shot leading up to this, it might be a good idea, it'll make more sense if you do, and for all those who have read the one-shot, welcome back! Special thanks to brokenwriter and Purpleangel who suggested this in the first place. :)**

**-Sphinxie**


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